


Fireman's Carry

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress Classic
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Oral Sex, Pegging, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Pyro asked Heavy to put on some wrestling trunks and meet her in the gym, a spontaneous grappling session with sexual dominance on the line was not the first thing he was expecting.  But that doesn't mean he's not very glad for the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireman's Carry

Heavy's eyes went wide the moment his feet were taken out from under him. What had been a smug grin was replaced with the gawp of a man who had just abruptly found himself falling with little idea of how such a fate could have befallen him. Hitting the floor seemed a mere formality, and as he gawked up at the woman standing over him, rolling her shoulder and flexing, he couldn't have been more turned on.

Pyro had said they were doing things a little differently that night. Usually, it was in one of their quarters. Sometimes, the showers. Either him pressing her up against whatever surface was closest and pawing that asbestos suit away as quickly as he could, or her shoving him down and climbing atop him, imperious and arousing. There had a been a few times that she had handcuffed him, or tied him to the bed, or one particularly fun time involving some ropes and a wicker chair missing its seat, but laying dizzily on the crash mats in the base's gym, the lights and Pyro above him, Heavy was a bit lost.

“Tonight, none of that prissy, smoochy shit. No ropes, no cuffs, no restraints,” Pyro explained, tucking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “We're gonna tussle, big boy. You and me, on the mats. Winner takes loser. I'm gonna make you tap out, then I'm gonna fuck that bubble butt of yours.” She indicated the boxing ring, where she had a bottle of lubricant, a towel, and a black dildo attached to a hand-fashioned leather harness sitting, ready for him. He cast his gaze back to Pyro, who cocked out a hip suggestively as she eyed him up like fresh meat. She wore a sports bra and a pair of tiny shorts that hugged her thick ass in ways that made Heavy ache and the trunks she'd had him wear feel a little tight. Towering over his prone form, she looked dangerous.

She was always dangerous. Her kill/death ratio on the field combined with her more than bloodthirsty attitude spoke to that, and if those failed to convince anyone, the vicious scar and missing eye marring an otherwise lovely face made sure to shout it loud and clear. It was one of the things that first attracted the brawny weapons specialist to the stout, short, curvacious arsonist. She was prepared from day one to take not a single speck of shit from the gathered assortment of rowdy men whom had been hired alongside her by BLU. In fact, when their Scout had questioned her ability to fight, the team very quickly learned that she indeed could. And that she made a habit of taking teeth to prove it. The little shit had shut up quickly after that and learned his place, but it didn't stop her from threatening him with her drill sometimes, just to keep him on his toes.

Mostly it was to get a laugh out of Heavy, who had hooted and hollered in unending mirth at his teammate's fate. Doubly so when he'd discovered Pyro had made earrings out of the molars she had held him down and extracted. The little shit should have known better. Any mercenary strong and capable enough to be hired by their employers was not to be trifled with.

At least, not without their permission.

A grin swept across Heavy's face as he snatched hold of Pyro's knee, yanking her leg out from under her and sending her crashing to the mat with a thud. She yelped in surprise, expecting some sort of conversation before the match was joined in earnest.

Really, she should have expected it. After all, she was the one who went in for a hug and then hit him with a Russian leg sweep. She sputtered and struggled to get up, only to find herself being swept between the big man's legs, which circled around her waist and wound together, squeezing the air from her between his thighs.

“You think I'm gonna just roll over for you? You gotta work for this ass, Bea,” Heavy teased, giving her another squeeze. “Safe gesture is tapping out?”

Pyro nodded.

“You gonna tap? I'm thinkin' I'll throw you in that ring and nail you on all four ring posts.”

“Fat chance,” Pyro laughed, reaching out to test the distance between them. “I run this show, and you're gonna be a good boy, so roll over and let me pin you then fuck you.” She reeled forward and slammed her forearm against the brawny mercenary's face, clocking him across his cheek and leaving it stinging. It rattled him enough for him to ease his legs' grip on her, and she squirmed free, taking hold of one leg as she peeled herself out from between them. She scrambled to her feet, hoisting his left leg up with her, and straddled it, stomping one foot down between his thighs, barely missing his groin. He tried to kick with his other leg, but she turned, catching it. She forced it down, crossing it over the left leg at the knee, and faced him. Holding the crossed leg, she fell back down, wrenching him as she did, and quickly folded her other leg over his right ankle when she landed, putting all of the pressure on the ankle and his left knee. Her hands free, Pyro pressed her palms into the mat and lifted her hips, letting her push down harder with the leg atop his foot, making Heavy bite back a groan of pain. The noise that left him was a pinched sound of discomfort, his shin silently screaming alongside his joints.

She knew how to take down the massive man: cut the tree off at ground level. His legs, while long and strong, were the easiest way to fell him, and as long as he was down and tied up in knots, she had the advantage. Heavy snarled and pawed at her leg, trying to dislodge her. Instead, she pressed harder, making him yelp and flop back against the mat as a surge of pain shot through his joint.

“Was that a tap?” Pyro asked with a devilish smirk. Her hair was a little mussed, but otherwise she looked like this was barely any effort, her makeup still immaculate. Heavy growled. He wanted to smear that lipstick all over his dick.

“Is this supposed to hurt?” he spat, rolling shallowly from side to side, trying to figure out an escape. She'd just keep punching him if he went to peel her leg off of his foot. He could feel the back of his knee pressing slowly against the mat, hyperextending, pinching and burning as she did not hold back with the pressure she applied. He had to bend his knee, somehow, some way, and the only way to do so was to get the damn thing off the mat. With a heft of his upper body, he rolled to his right, pitching himself over and pulling his hips along, slowly rolling them both over onto their bellies.

Pyro fought, scrabbling at the mat to stop the motion, but was hauled over in spite of herself, Heavy's bulk providing enough force to move them both. The weight of their combined bodies soon found itself pressing down on her knees, which dug into the mat. The cushioning did little to help the weight on her knees, which sank in and pressed to the concrete floor beneath readily, biting at her joints.

She grunted, clawing at the mat, and untangled her legs from Heavy's, kicking at him to get away. It was the opening he needed, and he took it. He rolled aside, getting his legs under him. It took a bit of work to get his knee to cooperate, but he was on his feet soon enough, arms out and at the ready. His grin was wide, feral, as he watched Pyro climb to her feet, a scowl across her pretty, painted lips. She slapped the feeling back into one knee and settled into stance, flexing her fingers in the air. They squared off, circling in a wide arc for a moment, before Heavy charged in.

Long legs carried him swiftly across the distance between them, and he found himself leaning down as the two locked up into a collar-and-elbow tie up, each with an arm wrapped around the other's, which reached for the other's shoulder. Their faces drew close, Pyro gritting her teeth against Heavy's smug smirk. He dropped to one knee, snatching hold of one of her wrists as he slipped his other arm away and between her legs, wrapping one mighty hand around the back of her thigh. He grasped the side of her knee and tugged her wrist, yanking her forward across his shoulders.

Pyro let out a squeak as she was hefted aloft, Heavy standing with a grunt and a wince, trying to ignore the pinching of his knees. She kicked, squirming, trying to break free, but his grip was tight as he held her. He bent his knees, getting a little oomph behind the motion as he pulled her wrist and tipped her off one shoulder, releasing her knee and sending her heels over head. Pyro hit the floor on her back, tucking her head away from the mat. The air left her lungs on the impact, and she flopped flat to the floor in a daze. She gasped, trying to will breath back into herself, unable to summon air for long moments that seemed to stretch forever. When at last she regained her breath, her belly and chest ached as much as her shoulders and back, a dull throb between her shoulder blades ebbing through her spine. Pyro rolled onto her belly, panting against the mat as she tried to get her hands and knees under herself.

But Heavy was there, kneeling down beside her with a chuckle. He snatched up Pyro's left arm and wrapping his right arm around it, tucked it inbetween his elbow and torso as he fell to his hip beside her. He slipped his left wrist beneath hers and grabbed hold of his own forearm with his right hand, pulling against her shoulder as he held her arm straight. He wrenched her just enough to let her feel it.

“You ready to say uncle now, Bea? Or would you rather call me Daddy?”

Pyro gathered her knees underneath of herself, flashing Heavy a one-eyed glare from underneath the blonde hair that fell in her face in messy locks, her makeup smeared, her grimace savage. He felt a pang in his heart and his trunks at that look. “I'm gonna call you my bitch!”

Pushing off with her toes, Pyro somersaulted forward, grabbing hold of his middle with her free arm as she went, pulling him over with her, rolling him from hip to side, then tugging him onto his upper back as she came up on her knees. With a laugh, she slapped him on the ass and snatched hold of his legs, wrapping her arms around his calves. She climbed to her feet and twisted, trying to roll him onto his belly.

Heavy fought, clawing at the mat, trying to stay on his back, to maintain his leverage, but when Pyro put her hips into it, stepping over his legs, he was lost, and found himself on his belly. She squatted above his upper back, bending him nearly in half as his hips left the mat, the pressure in his spine making his stomach churn.

He hadn't expected it to feel like this. The burning pressure was there immediately, creeping up his spine, up his neck, and spreading through his whole back like lava. The man spent his workdays hefting around his trusty portable Gatling gun, a massive weapon based on an even larger, old-fashioned design that was heavy enough to require a wheeled mount. The portable model he had devised (after giving up on the newer, but ultimately less reliable Fokker-Leimburger rotary cannon) was not too significantly lighter, putting daily punishment on the muscular mercenary's poor, tormented back. And now, bent over himself with Pyro's soft backside brushing against his shoulder blades, he found he could barely breathe under the strain and agony.

He hated losing, hated it, and he knew that the shit-talk that would follow would be nearly as bad as the pain in his spine. The consequences didn't matter that much compared to the smugness he knew would radiate from Pyro like waves of heat.

But at the same time, lord did it get him hard like nothing else when she would chuckle and demean him and press the head of that dildo of her against his asshole. Usually, she never gave him a fighting chance, just came out of the gate in her garters and stockings and not much else, a flogger in her hands and a cigarette between her lips. He bore more than a few round, red scars from those cigarettes.

Maybe that was what made this so different? Why he fought her, why he tried to defy her, why he fantasized about bending her over the second rope of that boxing ring and making her scream as the sound of slapping flesh filled the room. It was definitely why the shame was beginning to burn as much as his spine was, which only grew worse as she lowered herself, sitting upon his back and making the pain grow unbearable. He was a huge guy, muscular, strong, powerful. He was a fight-fighter, a scrapper, and here he was, bent over and near tears as a short, chubby, curvy blonde with smudged lipstick and huge tits dominated him physically.

It made him feel small, weak, impotent. He couldn't even out-wrestle a one-eyed woman. Heat welled between his thighs, and the rush made the pain almost fade. Her ass was so soft, pressing down on his upper back.

Heavy clutched at the mat, his chest tight, his spine screaming, and almost grateful that his hips had been lifted from the floor by his awful position, or his dick would be digging into the mat. He was hard, and swiftly losing interest in winning the competition. Not when he could instead have Pyro shed that sports bra and those tiny shorts and strap that dildo on around her thick hips and fuck him stupid instead. With a groan, he slapped the mat rapidly, signaling his surrender.

Pyro let out a victorious laugh, releasing Heavy's legs and letting him unfurl, flopping to the mat and making him wince as his cock jammed against it. He curled up, rolling to his side immediately, electricity shooting through his spine as he bent the other way.

“So, you know what this means, don't you, big boy?” Pyro teased, making her way over to the boxing ring with an exaggerated sway to her hips.

Heavy watched, one hand straying between his legs to palm at himself and his smarting cock. “You get to fuck me.”

“Damn right, I do.” With a grin, Pyro hopped up onto the ring apron, swinging her feet with glee. “So be a good little loser and bring that ass of yours over here.”

It took a moment before he could get his body to cooperate, but Heavy soon pulled himself to his feet and crossed over to the ring, laying his hands on the apron beside her.

“Get in,” she commanded, the playfulness slowly draining from her voice, which grew harder, more authoritarian. “And take those trunks off first.”

Heavy did as he was told, pulling his trunks off and down his thighs, letting them drop to the floor before taking hold of the bottom rope. He tugged himself up with it, lifting one knee to the apron, then the other, then crawled between the bottom and middle rope to the centre of the ring, where he waited on his knees.

“Ass up, face down,” Pyro ordered, tugging her sports bra free and tossing it to the floor. She stood, one hand on the top rope, and shed the little shorts that hugged her so tightly, noting the wet spot in the crotch with amusement before letting it join the rest of their clothing on the floor. She bent over, throwing her leg over the second rope and ducking under the top. Then she stopped, straddling the rope with a raised eyebrow, and settle gently upon it.

Her soft moan caught Heavy's attention from where he was, awaiting her arrival. Looking over, he watched as the arsonist rubbed herself against the middle rope, the vinyl-wrapped hemp resting between her outer folds. Once she was aware of her audience, Pyro clutched the rope, swinging her upper body around to stand and ride the rope more overtly. Her hips swung back and forth in long slides, and in the bright lights of the gym, Heavy could see the glistening of her wetness upon the rope.

Pyro shivered, rubbing her clit against the vinyl rope, her eye focused entirely on the large man's wanting expression. The slippery slide brought steady throbs of heat through her, and she was sure that should she want to, she could have gotten off right there without too much more effort, leaving Heavy wanting and whimpering as she cleaned up and left. He'd probably lick the rope clean without her even having to tell him to. The thought sent a shudder through her, making her wonder why they'd never fooled around in the gym before. Other than it being a serious breach of gym etiquette, of course. They'd have to make sure to wipe down all the equipment when they were done.

The weapons specialist salivated, his cock hanging hard and heavy between his thighs. He clenched his jaw to bite back the plaintive whine of need that bubbled up in his throat as Pyro picked up her supplies and dismounted the ropes, entering the ring with a sway of her hips, each step making her jiggle in several very appealing places. As she rounded on him, she stooped to run one strong-if-petite hand along his body, beginning at his broad shoulders and trailing down his still-aching spine until it reached the crest of his ass. Then she wound up and swatted one cheek with a hard spank that had him rocking forward with the motion, a yelp of surprise at the sting escaping him. She chuckled darkly. She loved that sound.

Pyro knelt behind Heavy, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of the massive man's tight, muscular ass and thick, powerful thighs. His balls shrank up against his body as her fingers tickled down his taint, and she palmed at them, rolling them in one hand, smirking at Heavy's quiet sigh. Her other hand busily went to work, setting down the harness, towel, and bottle of lube, opening the latter with a loud pop. She stopped pawing at him to slick two fingers with the slippery fluid, and spreading his cheeks with her free hand, pressed a single digit to his puckered hole.

Heavy hissed at the cold, the arch in his back soon falling straight as Pyro's finger pushed inside, the cool feeling soon drowned out by the heat of pleasure that thrummed through him, his head falling back to the ring mat. She worked quickly, pushing in all the way and slipping back out to add a second finger. She pushed both in slower, more carefully, easing inside as he barely opened to accept her, muscle clenching around her digits and crushing them together. Her hands were strong, however, and practiced at taming Heavy's body and coaxing it to her whim. She spread her fingers over and over, scissoring them further with each motion, forcing his hole to cooperate.

Gradually, Heavy began to relax, low groans leaving the muscular mercenary's lips as the stretch built a prickly, pleasant heat that thrummed wobbily through him, making his mind feel gently fuzzy. Pyro's fingers felt so good in him, working him open with care that spoke volumes about the trust between them. That they could go from talking shit and enacting pain on one another with grappling and slams to the ponderous, thorough preparation required to make the sex not only enjoyable, but safe for both of them, was perhaps the thing that made their relationship so special. They were fists and fire, biting, scratching, clawing, bruises and burns, but beneath it was a mutual adoration and tenderness that could not be quelled, and when all the sound and fury had been spent, their lips would sweetly press and their bodies would twine together in the warmth of their bed and the peace of their love. And every last bit of it was deliberate and agreed upon, and Heavy would have it no other way, content that Pyro felt the same.

Though, if she had her way, the dildo would probably be a lot bigger. She always liked to give him a challenge.

She withdrew her fingers and stretched her hand, working the soreness out of her fingers once she was satisfied with her work. She wiped her hand on the towel and gave his ass another spank, the rosy colour that chased it quickly growing to match the other cheek. Kneeling up, Pyro snatched hold of the harness, the rubber cock attached to it bobbing a bit with the motion. She wrapped the rig around her waist, buckling it closed and set the straps in place as comfortably as she could. She had crafted the harness herself using belts and scrap leather from Engineer's workshop. He had given her quite the look when he'd found her tapping rivets into the thing, but had been wise enough not to ask questions. Wrapped around her broad hips, Pyro's harness fit like it was part of her, and she looked down with satisfaction at her false phallus sitting just atop her mons. She squirted a healthy dose of lubricant onto it and lined it up with Heavy's entrance.

Heavy knew better than to hold back his voice with Pyro; she loved to hear him wail. So as she pushed into him, opening him around her cock, he moaned with her, elated to finally be filled. And filled he was; she slid in to the hilt in one motion. He pressed his cheek to the mat, arching up to welcome her, the harness around her waist scratching at him a bit as she settled into a comfortable position against him. With little ado, she began to thrust.

Her strokes were not gentle, and she began at a quick, rough pace, gripping him at the crux of thigh and hip. Her cock stretched him open around its rigid, rubber length, spearing deep and driving gasps from him with each thrust. It made him dizzy, it made him sore, and it turned him on like nothing else.

Pyro moaned as her hips slapped against his ass, as she felt his balls brush her thigh as she rocked his body. Heavy was so sexy like this, groaning and hissing and taking her cock obediently, so unlike the man in any other situation. The weapons specialist stood just over a foot taller than her, big and trim and made of muscle, where she was all soft curves, a squishy belly, and shorter than anyone else on the team, even smaller than Engineer, who had that notorious Conagher lack-of-height. Yet here Heavy was, on his knees, with his chest and cheek pressed to the ring mat, subservient to the stout arsonist and the fake dick she was driving into his willingly-presented ass. He fairly whined as she pressed against his prostate, finding the perfect angle, and it made her guts clench with lust.

She was wet enough to drown a man.

Planting one foot on the mat, Pyro knelt on one knee, working to keep her angle without giving up force as she began to assault that lovely little spot inside of Heavy, making him shudder and moan with every rough pass. The lube made lewd sounds as the dildo slipped in and out of him, squishing loudly amid the slapping of flesh and the jingle of Pyro's harness buckles. With a low chuckle, the arsonist climbed onto both feet, squatting behind the massive man as she hammered her hips, blazing deep into Heavy's ass.

“Christ,” he gasped, fire surging through him as Pyro fucked him without mercy. His ass was sore, every thrust an ordeal that sent bolts of pleasure rocking through him. He could feel precome not just welling, but beginning to drip from his cock, which swung with each rock of their bodies, too hard and almost painful. And then, she stopped. “What?”

Pyro fiddled with her harness for a moment, adjusting the position of the dildo. She shimmied forward, squatting over Heavy's ass with her toy still inside him, and once she was satisfied with her placement, the toy perched just against her clit, she tightened the harness to lock it into place, and sat down, plunging the dildo back in all the way. Heavy groaned, but soon found one arm being pulled up and back. Pyro draped it over her thigh, and tucked it under and against her shin, then did the same with the other side, wrapping Heavy around her legs. Then, stretching forward, she wrapped her arms around him and clasped her hands together against his cleft chin and tugged him up and back.

Heavy's back arched harshly, his shoulders taut, his neck straining up and back as his whole body was pulled back. Pyro laughed and cinched him up further, bending him as far as she could, and he felt his chest tighten, his breath growing short as pressure began to simmer along his spine once again. Once she was sure he was in position, Pyro adjusted her stance and resumed fucking him, snapping her hips to drive deep into him.

The leather plate the dildo was attached to rubbed roughly against her clit as she plunged the toy into Heavy, each stroke a throb of pleasure to her achingly-ignored vulva. Pyro's thumbs brushed along his muttonchops, petting at him almost teasingly as she railed him, her thrusts accompanied as much with her own groans as Heavy's now.

He clenched his fists, his strained cries coming between gasps for breath, hot agony mingling with hot ecstasy in terrifyingly equal amounts. She held him in pain and distress and bucked into his ass with abandon. He felt like he was going to pass out, like he couldn't breathe, like he was going to break in half, and like he was going to die of overwhelming stimulation both pleasant and painful, and it was utterly beautiful. His guts clenched, and he could feel the rising tide of sensation all roaring toward one conclusion, one final apex. He was filled one last time and crumbled, all of that tension and strain pouring out a strangled roar. Heavy's whole body seized, shuddering in Pyro's grasp as he sullied the ring with his release, his hips juddering.

Pyro inhaled deeply, shivering as she felt him spasm beneath her, gawping for air after his voice and body had been spent. There was something wonderful about making him come without touching his cock, without being able to place his hands on her, without giving him a single moment of control over his own pleasure. A soft sound that wasn't quite a whimper escaped his throat, and she released her hold on his face, letting him slump forward. She unwound his arms from her legs and he slumped to the mat, panting, laying in his own mess.

“You feelin' good?” the arsonist asked with a chuckle, pulling out of his sore ass and standing, enjoying the ruined groan he responded with. Skilled hands made quick work of the buckles of her harness, and she discarded the rig to the side. Pyro stepped to one of Heavy's sides and kicked his side lightly. “Roll over.”

Heavy did as he was told, heaving himself onto his back and laying there limply, looking up at the woman who had wrecked him so easily, a mixture of exhaustion and adoration on his craggy features. He smiled, and she returned the gesture before stepping astride his head and settling onto her knees, shoving her pussy into his face. He grunted in delighted surprise, his hands coming up to grab her thighs as she settled down, her slick lips pressed to his. He set to work without being told, knowing exactly what she wanted and how to give it. He kissed her, his tongue slipping out to lap at her wet folds, tasting her with fervor. His narrow brown eyes gazed up at her, at the belly that hung over her pubic mound, at the breasts that hung beyond that, and her hand came down to tangle in his hair, fisting in his short brown locks and urging him onward. He slid his tongue between her folds, teasing at her entrance and probing wetly inside.

His breaths puffed hot and heavy against her mons, and Pyro shivered as he tongue-fucked her, greedily lapping up her juices with the utmost reverence. His fingertips pressed into her soft, thick thighs, kneading at her flesh, and he drank in the moans he coaxed out of her with every flick of his skilled tongue, every suckle at her lips, every intimate kiss he worshiped her with. Soon, she could handle no more, pitching forward with both hands on the mat and changing her angle. She pressed her clit between his lips, and he obeyed her wordless command. He lapped at the sensitive nub, peeking out of its hood and swollen with lust.

Pyro panted, groaning her approval as Heavy lavished her clit with attention. She shuddered, nearing completion, feeling herself winding tight and her thighs beginning to quake. Bucking against his face, she came with a yowl, settling her weight on top of him as she rode out her orgasm, her pelvic floor clenching in rippling pulses. When her voice faded, leaving only her heavy breaths, the burly mercenary beneath her tested his luck by wrapping his lips around her clit and giving it a good suck, which made her spring away from him in a fit of overstimulation. “You fucker!”

Heavy gasped, finally getting the air he'd been denied by Pyro's climax, and grinned. When Pyro crawled back over to him, she sat beside his head and he leaned over to gently bite at the side of her butt. “So I gotta say: that was the first time I've been in a match like that. Never been fucked by my opponent before.”

“Hey, I won. Champion's privilege,” Pyro chuckled, ruffling Heavy's sweaty hair.

“So is that your championship belt?” the weapons specialist asked, gesturing over to the discarded strap-on.

“Maybe. Does that mean I'm gonna have to defend my title? Are the other boys gonna get a shot at your ass if they win the belt?”

“Nah. Just you, Bea.”

“Good,” Pyro grinned, rolling her shoulder. “You ready for round two?”

**Author's Note:**

> Just, eheh, ignore the fact that I fudged a LOT of the dates of innovation for these wrestling moves. If this were accurate 1930s catch wrestling the entire thing would be giant spins, airplane spins, and, idk, schoolboy rollups. As it is the camel clutch wasn't invented by Gory Guererro until at least the 40s.


End file.
